


A Birthday for Pegasus

by outlawrites



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Birthday, Birthday Party, Gift Fic, Mischief, possible toonshipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-11 17:10:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4444805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/outlawrites/pseuds/outlawrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Croquet was having a very tough month.</p><p>It wasn't so much the excessive globe-trotting, or trying to coordinate with the house staff at each of Mr. Crawford's extravagant homes.<br/>No- those were normal, everyday things.</p><p>The trouble right now was that he was trying to give Mr. Crawford the perfect birthday- and for once he didn't know where to start.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Birthday for Pegasus

**Author's Note:**

> A gift fic for tumblr user noselfpreservation who's own birthday was recently and wished for something along the lines of "Pegasus fic, possibly toonshipping?" (Close as I could get, sorry!) Erm. HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
> 
> I think I may have had too much fun with Croquet, but hopefully he is used to this sort of behavior in his coworkers.

Croquet was having a very tough month.

It wasn't so much the excessive globe-trotting, or trying to coordinate with the house staff at each of Mr. Crawford's extravagant homes.

No- those were normal, everyday things.

The trouble right now was that he was trying to give Mr. Crawford the perfect birthday- and for once he didn't know where to start.

Mr. Crawford never made what he liked or wanted a secret. If he saw something he wanted, he got it. But therein lay the problem- there was very little Croquet could do to make this birthday special.

He _could_ just plan a nice big party, and invite interesting people, and serve all his boss's favorites; but that was still just everyday stuff for Mr. Crawford.

In years past, there was always a special interest that had captured Mr. Crawford's attention so Croquet easily knew what would make the birthday a success. This year Mr. Crawford didn't seem to be interested in much of ANYTHING and that's why it seemed more important than ever to cheer him up on his special day.

He had tried paying extra attention to Pegasus’ comments when they were traveling in case there was a new kind of food he’d enjoyed or a different cartoon character that had caught his attention lately, but it was useless. As far as ideas went, the well was dry, and Pegasus seemed unusually withdrawn.

Back at the main house, Croquet tried pulling his boss into conversation to see if any topics sparked his interest, but whatever Croquet brought up, Mr. Crawford would just nod along noncommittally and then wave him away with a polite hand when the conversation was over. There was no spark, no light of interest in his eyes.

So Croquet decided to do what any other dedicated servant would do- he eavesdropped heavily on the boss’s personal phone calls during work hours.

After three or four very boring business calls (if Pegasus’ scoffing after he hung up were anything to go by) Croquet’s ears pricked up at the sound of Mr. Crawford’s chair squeaking lightly. Still keeping his back to the door as security protocol demanded, he peeked around the corner with his pocket mirror and saw his boss leaning back in his chair. His chin was resting in his palm and there was a pout on his face.

Finally after a few minutes of disappointed-sounding sighing, the phone rang. Pegasus sat up swiftly and checked the caller ID. It must have been someone he was expecting- and looking forward to speaking with- because Croquet could see his mouth was curved up into a smile.

Mr. Crawford answered the line with an authoritative air, but he wasn’t using his videophone, so whoever he was talking to didn’t have the benefit of seeing his face the way Croquet could. Pegasus was using his “business voice”, yes…but he was making cheerfully mocking faces at the phone as though to ridicule whoever was on the other end.

Croquet felt a deep sense of relief. This kind of behavior was to be expected of a man whose greatest delights in life included the antics of a sassy cartoon rabbit- but Mr. Crawford had been so quiet and solemn lately.

Whoever was on the other end of that call must have brought out Pegasus’ antagonistic, playful side. It must have been someone Mr. Crawford considered “too serious” or he wouldn’t be mocking the person; but at the same time it had to be someone he was still fond of, or he wouldn’t be wearing a smile like that.

Croquet’s experience in Mr. Crawford’s service had taught him many things: how to soothe a bad temper, how to run a bath to the perfect heat, what wines best paired with a gorgonzola-crusted steak, which shampoos were “absolutely unacceptable” to use on pure white hair.

But he’d also learned things that Mr. Crawford didn’t _know_ that he was teaching him. Pegasus had many expressions, and when he felt in control of a situation (which was often) his face only showed what he chose it to- he was a master of using his expressions to convey or conceal everything he wanted to say.

But working closely with him this long, a person picked up a few things. Or at least Croquet had.

The point was, Mr. Crawford had a lot of smiles, but there were only four main ones he used with any regularity. All the rest were mixed variations on those four specific kinds of smile.

There was the fake smile Pegasus used for business meetings and reassuring stockholders. He used this first one when he was trying to hide how he really felt about the people he was talking to, or when he wanted to be believable but nonthreatening.

There was the satisfied smile he used when a meal or a new development in his life pleased him. Croquet probably saw this second one the most often of all the smiles. Mr. Crawford got everything he wanted…or nearly everything.

…Which reminded Croquet of the third smile. This was the sad one (which Croquet personally hated to see). It bloomed on his boss’s face from looking at one particular portrait in the main house. Pegasus looked nobler, but ultimately less stable, when he used that smile.

The final, fourth smile Pegasus wore, was Croquet’s favorite. This smile said a lot. Seeing it didn’t necessarily mean that Croquet was going to have an easy (or particularly moral) workday, but it displayed a fire and a delighted frenetic energy in Pegasus. When Croquet saw what he called the Excited Smile, he knew that Pegasus’ enemies were in for a bad day, his friends were in for a grand time, and Croquet himself (either way) was probably in for a headache.

And that was fine. All in the line of duty.

Right now, Pegasus was speaking calmly, but his expression was afire with the Excited Smile. He hung up the phone and settled back in his seat, laughing lightly and trailing his hands over the arms of his chair. His eye slipped shut, and he settled his head against the chair-back for a moment. And Croquet was startled to see that- for the first time since beginning his work here- his boss ran through all four smiles in the space of a few seconds.

That settled it. Croquet had to find out who that call had been from. He was going to personally invite this mystery person and get them to the birthday party if it was last thing he ever did in Mr. Crawford’s service.  
\------

Two days later, Pegasus got a call from that person again. Croquet could tell by the serious overtone and barely restrained laughter in his boss’s voice.

Croquet leaned into the space by the door, straining his ears, listening, listening-

But then he heard, loud and clear, as his boss slyly cooed “Ohh _honestly_ , that’s so _silly_ Kaiba-” into the receiver.

Croquet felt a little green. _That might very well be the last thing I EVER do, never mind just for Mr. Pegasus’s service!_ he thought. Getting Kaiba, the paranoid, uptight CEO, to spend time with Mr. Crawford of his own free will, especially when it wasn’t business-related? That sounded like throwing a cat in the bath.

Croquet felt a quiet sort of despair begin to roll through him. He was just starting to slump against the wall under the weight of this unusual task, but then! he remembered his training for this job.

The company videos.

The personal teachings of his mentors.

“What would Funny Bunny do?” he murmured staring at the carpet.

He straightened his shoulders and rose to stand again. What he needed, was a plan. Preferably one with booby traps.  
\-----------

In the end, what it had taken was misdirection and the promise of a very important meeting. Mr. Kaiba was used to the way Mr. Crawford did business, so a call claiming that the meeting needed to be in person was not so unusual. Then Croquet just had to make sure to keep Mr. Crawford very busy for a few days in case Kaiba tried to confirm the surprise meeting by calling. (Which he undoubtedly would; Croquet believed that given KaibaCorp’s history, Kaiba’s paranoia was perhaps _warranted_ ).

So, Croquet himself fielded any calls from KaibaCorp, and kept Mr. Crawford busy with compiling his guest list and planning the elaborate birthday party. There was going to be the usual glittering assemblage of guests sitting at well-decorated tables arranged around a dance floor and eating from sophisticated menus- that was typical of most parties for a person of Mr. Crawford’s station. But, well.

This was also specifically _Mr. Crawford’s_ birthday party.

So far, there were going to be not only the live musicians, acrobats and fire-eaters this year, but also entire sections of the buffet dedicated entirely to all kinds of candy and ice cream. Apparently the boss had heard about one of his colleagues’ children having a “make your own sundae” party and liked the idea- just without the “make your own” part.

“Well, of _course_ I’m not going to force _my_ guests to _make their own food_ , Croquet. Honestly! How rude!” Mr. Crawford sniffed at Croquet, distaste in his expression. “Sometimes, it’s like you’ve learned _nothing_!”

Croquet just nodded contritely. “Of course, Mr. Crawford. So I’ll call in the extra kitchen staff to run the Sundae Station?”

Pegasus nodded, waving a hand in dismissive agreement and rolling his eyes.

Unfortunately, forcing Mr. Crawford to miss any calls from KaibaCorp meant that Pegasus was more melancholy than ever the few days preceding his birthday. It was starting to get downright demoralizing for the staff.

Croquet had wandered by the kitchen on his way to bring Mr. Crawford his breakfast in bed and actually heard someone sighing because they hadn’t “heard the boss giggle in days.” Croquet felt it was unusual to have a boss that was both morally gray and childishly delighted with the world; but once a person got used to it, the absence of excited (some might say maniacal) laughter ringing through the halls was, admittedly, eerie.

Croquet really hoped his plan worked out.

\-------

The night of the party Croquet went about his usual business ensuring that that wait-staff, kitchen workers and his security detail all had what they needed to make things run smoothly. He stopped three people Mr. Pegasus didn’t like from sneaking onto the island to mooch off the party, prevented a waiter from tripping and covering a party guest with prawns, and consoled a member of the kitchen staff who was crying because a rude guest had insulted the food.

He also made a note of which guest it was and put them (in his mind anyway) on a sort of probation; if they were rude to the kitchen staff they were probably also an unpleasant person in general and Mr. Crawford didn’t like rude bores at his parties.

The only thing he couldn’t do, the thing he wanted to do _most_ , was cheer up his boss. Pegasus had been nothing but ‘smile number one’ all night, and it was making Croquet feel pretty despondent. At least he’d prepared everything as best he could: he’d baited the hook for Kaiba, and actually drummed up some paperwork concerning overseas contracts for the man to sign so he wouldn’t be _too_ angry.

(The paperwork in question was basically the contract equivalent of signing an iTunes agreement, but Kaiba didn’t have to know that yet.)

Croquet didn’t want to get Mr. Crawford’s hopes up by telling him about the plan or the paperwork, but Croquet _had_ received word that the KaibaCorp CEO would be arriving here tonight to go over the contracts. Now it was out of his hands, and all he could do was wait.

Unless he wanted to kidnap the guy…

Nah. That never worked out.

So, as the first hour or so of the party wore on and the evening continued, Croquet started to feel a little desperate and disappointed. Mr. Pegasus had flashed a few satisfied smiles (and to Croquet’s horror, one sad smile when he saw a flower arrangement) but most of tonight had been his business smile. What a bust.

Croquet started to become very cross with himself, and irrationally, with Kaiba. What kind of CEO was Kaiba anyway, saying he was going to show up somewhere and-

Just then, Croquet heard the sound of an approaching chopper. He was relieved to see the KaibaCorp logo emblazoned on the side of it as the machine was flown past the spotlights toward the helipad. _Finally_.

He turned to see Mr. Crawford’s expression and was hit full blast with his boss’s surprised face mingled strongly with the “satisfaction” smile. And did _that_ look a little like the beginnings of that desperately sought _fourth_ smile? Croquet thought it might be, because Mr. Crawford immediately excused himself from the party, and adopted a fairly brisk pace stepping over to the arriving helicopter. His _steps_ certainly seemed excited…

The silence after the flying vehicle’s engine cut off made Croquet’s ears ring. Kaiba stepped from his chopper in a blaze of glory and positively dripping irritation.

“ _Pegasus._ What kind of person schedules a business meeting on a weekend? And at _Night_?” He strode forward and did a double take, squinting away from the landing area and over at the lights and music on the terrace. “And is that some kind of party? Why are you dragging me over here for a meeting during a _party_?” he hissed.

Croquet, stone-faced but internally mortified, quietly edged up to his boss and handed him the contracts. He wasn’t sure why he thought it would go differently than this, but somehow he’d fooled himself. Even from behind his dark glasses, he was kind of afraid to look at Mr. Crawford. He forced himself to anyway.

Pegasus accepted the papers absently, and in the span of a few seconds gave them a cursory glance with his Millennium Eye, then fixed his gaze briefly on Croquet. Did he just wink? _Oh. Good_.

“Kaaaiba dear, I’m _SO sorry_ to call you all the way out here to my little island~ but this paperwork absolutely _could not_ wait. We need it in order to go ahead with our plans to market my game in cooperation with your Duel Disc system over in the Pacific _Islands_ , darling.”

Kaiba’s jaw clenched, but he made no comment, just strode over to Pegasus. He stuck a hand out for the contracts.

“Oh, now Kaiba-boy, you’ve flown so far! And we were _just_ going to cut the cake in about ten minutes. Why don’t we forestall the business for just a _little_ bit and-”

Croquet felt that perhaps this was the wrong thing to say, because even though his face remained stoically unaffected, Croquet was pretty sure he could see Mr. Kaiba’s pulse amping up in his neck. “What. Are you talking about, Crawford?”

Mr. Crawford blinked innocently. “Why my birthday cake, of course.”

Kaiba stared.

“Why, you didn’t forget my _birthday_ , now did you Kaiba-boy~?”

Kaiba glared at Pegasus, his eyes narrowed. “It’s not my _business_ to know when your birthday is, Crawford,” he said coldly. “That’s my _assistant’s_ job,” he added, his gravelly voice dragging across the syllables like he was trying to draw blood out of them. But then he averted his gaze, apparently angrier than before and continued- “And besides which, it isn’t until tomorrow.”

Croquet had many years of service and many years of practice at seeing remarkable things without letting his mouth fall open; and thank goodness too, because he thought a reaction like that might be the only thing that could make Kaiba more angry. But he couldn’t help his incredulous thoughts. _He already remembered Mr. Crawford’s birthday?!_

A glance at his boss told Croquet that he seemed to be thinking the same thing. Mr. Crawford’s hand had found its way up to lightly cover his mouth in astonishment. The boss was a master at recovery, however, and a half second later Pegasus had pulled his hand away to flick at his hair in affected manner.

“Well, _really_ , Kaiba! Who would throw a party of _this_ grand scale on a _Sunday_? That’s _practically_ a weeknight!”

Kaiba sighed, clenching his teeth in frustration. “Well, happy early birthday, Pegasus.” He stuck a hand out. “Contracts.”

Pegasus pouted, hugging the folder to his chest. “Now, _really_ Kaiba, what kind of impression does that make on my other guests? I’ve already walked all the way over here to _personally_ greet you and _now_ you’re not even going to stay for a cup of _tea_?”

Croquet wondered if that was a shade of purple Mr. Kaiba turned very often. He couldn’t imagine it was terrifically good for his health.

“Unlike _you_ apparently, I have _responsibilities_ at home, Crawford. I can’t stay out till all hours of the night without-”

Just then a sleepy voice piped up from the backseat of the helicopter “Setooo? Where _are_ we?”

Kaiba’s eyes widened, his face going slack with shock as he spun to stare at the copter. “Mokuba? What the hell are you doing in our chopper? You’re supposed to be home in bed!”

Croquet could hear Mr. Crawford muffling his tittering laughter as Mokuba tumbled out from the backseat, still clutching an oversized pilot’s jacket over his shoulders.

The child yawned, rubbing his eyes. “I was doing extra studies on the new chopper’s controls, and I fell asleep on the floor back there.” The jacket drooped off him a little, and he hitched it up, blinking in apparent confusion. “I didn’t think it would _matter_. I figured we wouldn’t be _out_ on any business ‘cause it’s Saturday night.”

Kaiba turned to glare at Pegasus pointedly, and Mr. Crawford just business-smiled and shrugged as if to say “Well, what can you do?”

The KaibaCorp CEO let out a long, hissing, exhausted breath, betraying the first true sign of his relative youth and temper tonight. Croquet had noticed previously that the younger Kaiba seemed to have this effect on his brother; Mokuba’s presence seemed to simultaneously make Seto more aware of his own young age- and make him all the more adamant to ruthlessly ignore it. The CEO drew himself up to his full height, his spine stiff, and addressed Pegasus again.

“Look, Crawford, I _clearly_ don’t have time for this nonsense. I need to bring Mokuba home and get him to sleep. I don’t have time for parties, I don’t have time for tea, and I definitely don’t have time for cake.”

“Cake?” said Mokuba with deep interest. “Why is there cake?” His eyes blinked a little less sleepily as they scanned the area nearby and alighted on the elaborate party. “Ooh, that looks pretty cool! Is it a special occasion?”

Pegasus beamed delightedly. “It most _certainly_ is, young man!” He gestured to the party with one long finger. “All of those _lovely_ ~ folks are here as guests to celebrate my birthday~!”

Mokuba gawked at the party. “All of that is for your _birthday_?” He squinted. “Are those acrobats?” His big eyes widened comically. “Did that guy just eat FIRE??”

The elder Kaiba, meanwhile, was staring at the ground like he might be able to burn a hole in it if he tried hard enough, and rubbing his temples. “No, Mokuba-” he intoned forcefully.

“No, it totally is, big bro! That guy just- WOAAAH! Now he’s SPITTING the fire! He looks like some kind of dragon-guy!”

Kaiba’s eyes wandered over to the crowd at hearing that but he immediately forced them back to his brother. “No. Mokuba. We’re not staying.”

Pegasus clapped his hands together. “Oh! Kaiba! What a wonderful idea! Why _don’t_ you two stay and join the festivities for a little while~?”

Croquet was staring at Kaiba warily, prepared to jump between him and the boss, because Croquet pretty sure that was the face a man made when he was getting ready to choke someone.

But Kaiba just grit his teeth and said. “No. It’s already late at night, and JUST BECAUSE Mokuba’s here instead of waiting at home is NO REASON to KEEP him here, AWAKE, for a frivolous party.”

Mokuba scowled, crossing his arms over his chest. “Aw, bro, why not? Come on-”

“Yes, really, Kaiba, I quite agree with little Mokuba here. Don’t be so strict~! As you said yourself, it’s a _Saturday_ , after all! And don’t you boys deserve a little fun? You work _so_ hard.”

Mokuba turned pleading eyes on his brother, but said nothing.

Kaiba sighed.

“FINE. _One_ hour, Mokuba. And don’t go crazy with the sugar because you still have to sleep when we get home later.”

“Aw Seto, you know I never have trouble sleeping- HEY is that an ICE CREAM buffet??”

Their ensuing argument faded into the distance as Pegasus stood back with Croquet and watched their progress toward the party. There was a brief silence. Then Pegasus put a hand on Croquet’s shoulder. “You know, I don’t _recall_ setting a meeting the Kaiba boys today. I suppose you might know a little something about that, Croquet?” Croquet winced and chanced a glance at the boss.

He was still staring at the party, but he was smiling, a mixture of the second and fourth smile that resulted in a very fond look.

“H-Happy Birthday, Mr. Crawford.”

The fond look intensified. Pegasus didn’t look at him, but Croquet saw the edge of his smile creep higher. “Thank you, Croquet.”

\---

In the end, the Kaiba brothers were at the party for _three_ hours and seemed to be at LEAST mildly enjoying themselves (Kaiba extremely begrudgingly). Croquet overheard them get into just one other argument over the party the whole night.

He had been standing back and observing the guests to look for problems when he heard Mokuba, his mouth full of ice cream, questioning his elder brother. “How come _we_ don’t celebrate like this? It’s not like we’re too broke or something now! I bet we could throw a _way_ better party! So why not?”

“Because I have no desire to spend MORE time with business associates when we’re not profiting from it, and we have no “friends”, Mokuba.” said Kaiba, sipping a coffee. “Because trusting people and having friends is for weaklings and idiots.”

“Yeah!” said Mokuba. “We could invite Yugi and those guys! I’m sure they’d love a party like this!”

“That’s not what I _meant_ Mokuba.” Kaiba paused, sipping his drink then continued with a reluctant expression. “Though it _is_ gratifying to know that you also think of them when someone says ‘idiots.’ Maybe if we spent more _time_ with them you’d realize why it’s terrible and avoid doing it.” He tried to get Mr. Crawford’s attention again, a frustrated look on his face.

When the brothers had first arrived at the party, Pegasus had shown them around to all of the attractions and the dining area and spent a good deal of time laughing and smiling. (Croquet rated it a good mix of smile two and four.)

Pegasus had disappeared, however, once the hour Kaiba talked about had passed. He had been conveniently ‘not seeing’ Kaiba flagging him down about the contracts while he flitted through and socialized with the other attendees. He kept popping between with his party guests and disappearing just as swiftly, like Funny Bunny in and out of black holes. There was an innocent grin on his face as this went on (that Croquet knew full well to be a lie, because it was Business Smile with the fourth Excited Smile running all through it.)

Finally, during Mokuba’s third sundae, Kaiba actually stalked past the people filling up party favor bags with candy to where Pegasus was exclaiming over another guest’s new suit.

“Mr. Crawford? So _sorry_ to interrupt, but I believe you said we had some business to conduct this evening.” he said politely.

Well- his face and voice were polite. Croquet was pretty sure that his eyes were promising various kinds of murder.

Pegasus sighed. “Oh, _yes_. How _perfectly_ dull, do _pardon_ me~” he said to the guest in the bespoke suit. He drew aside and waved Croquet over with the contracts, who handed them over to the KaibaCorp CEO.

Kaiba whipped a pen out of his jacket and opened the folder on one of the tall coffeehouse-style tables to look over the papers while standing. There was a beat or two of silence while he read, and Pegasus swirled the wine in his glass and pretended to be examining his fingernails.

Croquet knew better. He knew that look. Pegasus was observing Kaiba slyly out of the corner of his eye and waiting for the other shoe to drop.

It did. Loudly.

Kaiba must have re-read the contracts three times from disbelief and mistrust of his own eyes, because Croquet had never seen him take so long to approve such a minor detail in his business dealings with Mr. Crawford before.

As soon as Kaiba finished scrawling his usual dramatic signature, Croquet felt an ominous tension ripple through the air around them. It was like a clock counting down.

 _Click_. Kaiba closed his pen.

 _Thwip_. The folder was shut.

 _Schiff_. Kaiba, still staring down, slid the contracts back over the table towards Pegasus.

“Is there anything else?” Kaiba asked, his tone deceptively light, considering the tightness in his jaw and posture.

“Hmmm,” said Pegasus, swirling the wine in his glass absently. Croquet startled at hearing how casual Mr. Crawford’s voice sounded. “No. That’s all Kaiba-boy~.”

Croquet was so busy staring at Mr. Crawford that he got thrown off by the hissing noise beside him, and his eyes flew back to Mr. Kaiba.

 _Oh shi-_ Kaiba was breathing hard, his eyes wild and his face tense as he slowly brought his gaze up to zero in on Pegasus.

“THIS-“ he pointed accusingly at the paperwork “IS WHAT YOU DRAGGED ME ALL THE WAY OUT HERE TO SIGN? This could _definitely HAVE WAITED, PEGASUS._ ”

His eyes were _flaming_ with something Croquet found difficult to define, but that (if he were honest) he admitted made him want to hide under a chair and whimper. The manic grin (and Croquet wasn’t going to try and further categorize anything on Kaiba’s face thanks) didn’t help Croquet’s sense of deep unease. He shuffled a little closer to the boss who looked…positively delighted?

But Kaiba wasn’t done. “I think you need a reminder about _wasting my time_ , old man.”

“Kaiba, _really_! Calling me old on my _birthday_! How _frightfully_ rude!” Pegasus sounded appropriately offended but Croquet, watching just his cunning eyes, knew the real story. He was trying not to laugh.

“You _heard_ me,” Kaiba grit out through clenched teeth, staring down the guest of honor. “Now, DUEL ME, old man!”

Oh, well, this was certainly not going to be the highlight of Croquet’s illustrious service to Mr. Crawford, now was it?

 _…or perhaps it **is**_ , Croquet thought, astonished. A more thorough look at Mr. Crawford revealed quite a picture: Pegasus’ eyes were wily and pleased, his face flushed, and –yes, right there! The fourth, most sought, most special smile was glowing on Mr. Crawford’s face; the Excited Smile had arrived.

As Mr. Crawford’s guests started surreptitiously placing bets and the two business magnates squared off, Mokuba managing to cheer on his brother despite _still_ being midway through a sundae the size of his skull, Croquet only had eyes for Pegasus.

The boss was laughing and preening and arguing with Kaiba. And his face! Croquet analyzed it once more to be sure; cheeks high with color, eyes sparkling- and the wickedly delighted curve of the Excited Smile curling his lips, full strength. _Yes._

As the duel commenced, Croquet gave himself a moment of self-congratulation- the boss’s birthday was a real success. Pegasus was happy. So Croquet was happy. _Kaiba_ didn’t seem to be, but who could tell with him anyway? At least it was a well-proven fact that Kaiba liked to duel, so that probably counted for something, right? Yeah. Besides, it wasn’t HIS birthday. Now there was only one real problem.

How was Croquet ever going to top this next year?


End file.
